


Purple Rage

by TAFKAmayle



Series: Color-Coded [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:01:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22067437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TAFKAmayle/pseuds/TAFKAmayle
Summary: Michael just wants to do his damn job, but some asshole in a purple hoodie keeps showing up.TW: This fic contains a Ryan Haywood character.
Series: Color-Coded [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1601806
Comments: 30
Kudos: 44





	1. Chapter 1

Michael glanced to the security guards in the corner. _Distracted._ He readjusted his crouch to more of a kneel for stability. The actor had moved to the proper position. _Perfect._ He reached for his gun, ready to fire, but before he got the chance a shot rang out. 

Suddenly a bloody rose bloomed over the man’s white button up. Michael stared at the spreading bloodstain in confusion as the man fell. _What the fuck?_ He traced the trajectory to the theater’s catwalk and saw someone fleeing. 

“You stole my kill, you fucking prick!” He shouted, launching himself into action.

He sprinted across the stage, leaping over props and terrified actors. No fucking way he was going to let this fuck get away. He made a beeline for the only ladder that led up to the catwalk and caught a glimpse of purple as the person disappeared through the side door. _Fuck this asshole is fast._ He got through the door in time to see another glimpse of purple as they disappeared out of a fire exit, tripping the fire alarm. 

“Fucking Christ!” Michael hissed, “This slippery fuck!”

He burst from the fire exit and rushed to the entrance of the alleyway. He looked around for that purple, but they were nowhere in sight. _Damnit._ He pulled out his phone, breathless and annoyed.

“Ry, I’m at the side exit,” he grumbled, “Some assfuck just stole my damn kill.”

Ryan’s snort of laughter did nothing to calm him down. _I’m going to kill this motherfucker when I find them._

~

To say Michael was pissed, would be like saying he had a slight temper. Purple, as he’d taken to calling them, had disappeared so well, they couldn’t find them on any security footage within a one-mile radius of the theater. Since the job was done, there was no real reason to pursue them, but Michael wanted to find them and shove their organs out through their back like some Mortal Kombat shit. They made him look bad. That was his kill and they stole it. But well, purple hoodie and long range shooter being your only description is useless. 

“Why are you obsessing over this?” Geoff asked, “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Fuck off, Ramsey,” Michael grumbled, not looking up from the screen.

Geoff hit the power button and immediately stepped back to avoid Michael’s wild hook.

“It’s been a week, dude,” Geoff pointed out, “We got a job. A boom job too, so you can release some anger, okay?”

Michael scowled at him but grudgingly agreed. Maybe if he took his mind off of it, he’d be less pissed. Unfortunately, that’s not what happened. 


	2. Chapter 2

Michael stopped his trek across the roof. _Someone’s here._ He whipped his gun out and whirled on them. They also had a gun out. They stared each other down a brief moment before Michael recognized the hoodie. His face twisted into a scowl.

“You! You fucking piece of shit!” He snarled.

The person blinked rapidly like they were surprised.

“Oh, shit!” They exclaimed, “You’re the angry guy from the theater!”

“You stole my fucking kill, you shit!” Michael snapped, “Anyone would be pissed about that!”

The guy raised an eyebrow.

“I was hired for that kill,” he explained, “I didn’t know anyone else was on it.”

Michael’s anger deflated a bit, but now he was all keyed up from being mad. He sighed.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He asked, tiredly.

“I got a target to the southeast,” the guy answered, “What are you doing?”

“Setting up a bomb, my dude,” Michael muttered, pulling out the bomb in question, “This roof is gonna go down.”

“I was here first,” the guy argued, “Fuck off! I took three days to find the perfect spot!”

Michael hesitated.

“Are you doing it in the next ten minutes?” He pressed, checking his watch.

“Uh, I guess I could,” the guy relented, “So then truce?”

“Truce,” Michael agreed.

They lowered their weapons and split off to their separate jobs. Since Michael’s was a shorter job, he wandered over to where Purple was set up to observe. He was a sniper for sure, Michael noted. Not just a long range, like an actual sniper. Though his weapon was fucking pink for some reason. What kind of sniper is that flashy?? 

He laid flat on the roof, rifle resting on a small bipod positioned on the lip of the roof. His breathing was so steady and slow that Michael thought he wasn’t breathing for a moment. He shifted backwards slightly and Michael’s full gay attention was drawn to the strip of skin that became exposed just above his ass. There was a tattoo there, a fucking tramp stamp, but Michael could only see the very edge of it. 

He fired, startling Michael out of his staring contest with the curly ink. He looked towards where he’d fired, but they must’ve been way too far. He couldn’t even hear any ruckus from anyone reacting to the shot. Purple rolled over, drawing Michael’s attention again. It took him a fully thirty seconds to process what the guy was doing. 

“What the fuck are you doing??” He demanded.

The guy just looked at him dryly, apparently unembarrassed. Michael tried really hard not to watch, but Jesus the guy was really cute and had no fucking shame. Michael wanted to pinch himself to see if he was dreaming.

_His hand. It’s on his dick. He’s jerking off. While I’m just standing here watching like a pervert._

Michael turned around finally, blushing scarlet. He’d watched way too long. Shit. He was officially a creep. And he had a fucking boner. When Purple finished, he made a relieved sort of groan and caught his breath before getting up to gather his shit.

“You jerk off every time you kill someone?” Michael muttered, face burning.

“Only when someone watches.”

Michael had to bite his tongue not to ask “When someone watches you kill or watches you jerk off?” The guy left without another word and Michael was glad. He didn’t think he could stand any more awkward conversation with him. He firmly forced himself to wait until he got home to furiously jerk off to the image of Purple’s flushed face. 


	3. Chapter 3

Michael sighed as he entered the room and saw it occupied. Purple was there. _Again._ It’d been awhile since he’d seen the guy, but not very long since he last jerked off thinking about him. Purple’s head lifted from his rifle to look at Michael.

“Hey, ‘sup, Rage Quit?” He called, “I had a feeling it was you.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Michael muttered, trying to catch up to the conversation.

“These guys,” He answered, jerking his chin.

Michael stepped more fully into the room and saw his targets were on the floor, bound and gagged. He went to check their pulses. Not dead though. He wondered if the guy had done that on purpose, left them for Michael to kill. _Whatever._

He fired two shots, killing them and crouched down to pat them down. _Flash drive, fuck yes._ He tucked it away and headed towards Purple who was refocusing on his target. When he fired, Michael once again couldn’t hear any ruckus. He must be really good at long range. Michael looked around through the window next to the one he’d fired out of. _Nothing._ Not even a glance from pedestrians. They were pretty far up.

The guy was jerking off again, Michael realized with a blush.

“H-hey, Rage,” Purple called, voice strained, “D-Don’t you want t-to watch?”

Michael’s head whipped around so fast he thought he could’ve pulled a muscle. God the guy looked wrecked as Michael’s eyes locked with his. He shuddered, eyes trailing down past the purple hoodie where he was using both hands to jerk off.

“F-fuck yes,” Purple groaned.

Michael was permanently an ugly shade of scarlet. _He really does get off on being watched._ His body pulsed with desire as he watched him nearing his climax. He really wanted this guy for some reason. When he was finished, Purple packed up and left, throwing an off-handed wave over his shoulder.

~

“Hey, Rage,” Purple called out, not looking away from the scope, “Long time no see.”

“I would’ve preferred to have never seen you again,” Michael grumbled, walking over to sit near him.

He was meant to stake out the roof all night. He hoped Purple wouldn’t be there the whole time. Just seeing him gave him a boner. He’d been jerking off to him so much, he was full Pavlov. 

He watched quietly as the guy readjusted his rifle. He was still again, barely breathing, making no noise. He was pretty good, Michael had to assume. He certainly looked like he knew what he was doing. He fired and this time Michael was sure he heard shattered glass in the distance.

He rolled away almost immediately, ripping his jeans open. Michael watched, face flushed with shame and desire. He hesitated a moment, but eventually pulled out his own dick to jerk off at the same time. The guy moaned when he realized what Michael was doing. It’s not just watching, it’s getting off while watching. He seemed to have a bit of a fucking ego. 

“Pull up your shirt,” Michael ordered.

The guy groaned and used a free hand to shove his T-shirt up to his chin. He bit down on it to hold it up. He watched Michael closely with lust-filled eyes. He wanted Michael to order him around. Michael wanted so many things he wasn’t sure what he wanted right then. 

“Show me how you play with your nipples,” he finally directed.

The guy looked a bit surprised at that, but his fingers were on his nipples pretty quick. He rubbed circles over them and pinched them until they stood up perky and proud. Michael wanted to taste them. The guy was moaning, his body arching. He was getting close. When he came, his head fell back and he gasped up at the inky sky. Michael watched his body trembling as his own orgasm suddenly surprised him.

“That was awesome!” The guy exclaimed, sitting up quickly, “We definitely need to do that again.”

Michael’s face burned as he cleaned himself up. The guy was so blunt. He gathered his stuff and left again with a wave thrown over his shoulder. He always left so quickly. Michael wanted him to stay. _Whatever._ Michael refocused on his stake out, trying to push Purple’s lusty face from his mind.


	4. Chapter 4

Michael was there first the next time he ran into Purple. He was actually half out a window when he heard him enter. Not exactly his most favorable position, but he saw the familiar purple before he panicked into falling or shooting. He finished his wiring and ducked back inside, running it to Ryan’s laptop.

Purple watched him curiously as he finished setting up and Michael felt like he was being studied. He blushed a bit and felt the need to apologize. This must’ve been how he felt all those times Michael watched him shoot. Then again, he got off on being watched, so maybe it didn’t make him as uncomfortable. 

“Let me guess,” Michael muttered when he was finished, “You need this window.”

“I won’t mess up your shit,” Purple promised.

Michael stepped from the window to the laptop, which was hardly even a full step away from it.

“This enough room?” He questioned, “I can move a bit.”

“Plenty of room,” Purple assured him.

He started setting up and Michael powered on the laptop. _Perfect._ _Now to call Ry._ He picked up within seconds of the call ringing through.

“Is it up?”

“My dick or the laptop?” Michael muttered distracted by putting in the passcode, “Either way, yes.”

“Okay, ready?”

“Aye, aye, Captain Vagabond,” Michael grunted, “On your command, sir.”

“Don’t sass me,” Ryan grumbled, “Okay click on the icon I showed you.”

“Did you rename it “Mogar is stupid”?” He asked dryly, “That’s fuckin rude.”

“Well, it was “Mogar is gay”, but Jack said that wasn’t PC enough.”

Michael snorted, trying to stifle laughter. Ryan began directing him and he vaguely registered Purple shooting, but remained focused on the task. Until Purple was unzipping his pants. He jumped in surprise and looked down to see him kneeling in front of him.

“H-hold on a sec,” he muttered into the phone.

He muted the call as Purple continued undoing his jeans.

“ _Purple_ , the fuck are you doing?!” He demanded.

The guy paused enough to look up, confused.

“Purple?” He questioned.

“I don’t know your name, dumbass,” Michael hissed, “So I call you by the first thing I noticed. Purple.”

“Ray.”

Michael just blinked at him a moment. 

“What?” 

“My name, it’s Ray,” he clarified, “Can I go back to blowing you now? I’m getting blue balls waiting for you.”

Michael blushed, but before he could sputter at him to cut it out, Ryan spoke up asking him if he was okay. He took the phone off mute as Ray started pulling out his dick.

“I-I’m here,” he muttered, “Go a-ahead.”

Ryan went back to instructing him while Ray licked up his cock and swallowed him down. Michael’s teeth clenched as he tried to focus of Ryan’s instructions rather than Ray’s tongue swirling around him. He kept accidentally typing his name instead of whatever the fuck Ryan was telling him to type. 

Ray was bobbing back and forth, taking him deep in his throat then pulling all the way to the head before diving back in again. It was nothing short of a fucking miracle that Ryan couldn’t hear the loud slurping happening a few feet down from the phone. Eventually Ryan hung up for them to wait out the decryption. 

“F-fuck!” Michael groaned, “Goddamnit, Ray, your fucking mouth f-feels so good!”

Ray moaned around him and sucked Michael’s cock to the back of his mouth. Michael jerked forward with a grunt and Ray moaned again. Face fucking. That’s what he wanted. Michael grabbed his hair into tight fists and started shoving him back and forth on his dick. Ray moaned and moved his tongue around him, encouraging him to keep going. Only one problem with the situation: Ray wasn’t jerking off. He seemed to be enjoying it, but he was holding onto Michael’s jeans with both hands, just along for the ride. 

“Ray?” He grunted, trying to slow himself to a stop, “I thought you wanted me to watch?”

Ray’s face flushed and he looked away from Michael’s questioning look. _Ah. He wants to be told._

“Ray, don’t be shy now,” Michael coaxed, brushing his hand through Ray’s hair, “Go on and show me what you so desperately want me to see.”

Ray’s hands were shaky as he fumbled with his jeans to pull his dick out. Michael went back to thrusting into his face while he jerked off. Michael’s fingers threaded through his short hair as he fucked desperately into Ray’s throat. _So close, so close!_ Ray moaned, sending him over the edge and he shoved him down as he came. Ray swallowed quickly, choking a bit and Michael backed away two steps before falling to his ass. 

Ray was already gathering up his things by the time Michael felt able to open his eyes. The guy grinned at him as he noticed Michael waking up. He stooped down between Michael’s feet and held up his cell phone. Before Michael had a chance to ask “What the fuck”, the guy snapped a picture of him. Michael blushed horrifically and Ray snapped another before standing.

“You got a cute wrecked face, Rage Quit,” he teased, “Almost as good as your blushing face.”

Michael sputtered, trying to say something, _anything_ as the guy waltzed out the door. _Damnit. Damnit!_


	5. Chapter 5

“I don’t want to do this lame ass mission!” Michael growled into the phone, “Make B Team to this stupid fucking grunt work!”

“Michael, don’t be a dick,” Jack scolded, “I’ve got enough going right now.”

“I don’t give a fuck!” Michael snapped, “I don’t do fucking recon! I’d rather fucking d-“

He was interrupted by the lock on the bathroom door being picked. He went for his weapon, but a familiar head popped through the door. 

“Never mind, I’ll do it,” Michael hissed before hanging up.

Ray looked up at him as he spoke. He grinned as he slid into the bathroom and closed the door. For some fucking reason, he had an instrument case on his back. 

“You here to play for the neighbors?” Michael asked dryly.

“Like they’d appreciate me,” Ray snorted as he walked to the window, “But if you’re real good and patient, I’ll serenade you with Serenade...After we get off.”

Michael was glad the guy had his back to him so he didn’t see the horrific shade of tomato soup on his face. Michael shifted a bit to see around Ray’s arm as he opened the instrument case. He tried not to openly stare at the guy, but it was hard not to when he started to work. He was twisting his gun together expertly, all the pieces smoothly going into place. He was a quick and professional criminal when it came to the actual work.

“Do you have a crew?” Michael found himself suddenly asking.

“Not exactly,” Ray muttered as he finished putting together the rifle, “I got a pimp.”

He shifted into a half crouch, looking through his scope, shifting uncomfortably. The window was a bit lower than the others he’d seen him shoot through. _Pimp. Is he serious?_

“Someone else assigns you work?” Michael pressed.

“Mm-hm,” Ray confirmed, “Joel basically owns me.”

He was shifting, moving left to right in an awkward arc. 

“But he’s an alright guy,” he added, “Let’s me suck his dick when I’m lonely.”

Michael went red again and suddenly realized something: Ray was distracted by the job. He was just blabbing whatever. He said everything in a breezy, bored voice like he didn’t even realize he was saying it out loud. The responsible thing to do would probably be try to pry some serious info from the guy, but Michael found himself hesitant. He felt like he was being subconsciously trusted not to ask anything too sensitive and his chest clenched painfully. Trust was too hard to earn to let any amount of it be spoiled.

“He doesn’t watch like you do, though,” Ray mumbled, still shifting and moving a lot, “You look like...you _see_ me.”

Michael was almost 100% certain that Ray had not meant to say that out loud. He flushed, his heart suddenly thundering wildly in his chest. Meanwhile Ray was oblivious as he kept trying to settle into a position, unable to find one comfortably. Sniping seemed harder than blowing shit up or running wires. 

“You need to use me as a chair?” Michael offered, half joking.

Ray looked up and turned to him.

“I mean, if you’re seriously offering,” he answered, sounding hopeful.

“Sure, where do you want me?” Michael agreed.

Ray had him sit cross-legged on the floor while he sat on his shoulders. Michael kept a hold on his thighs for extra support and after a few seconds of adjustment, he was where he wanted. He was focusing through his scope, waiting and Michael just waited with him. It wasn’t terribly uncomfortable, Ray was pretty tiny, actually, but Michael realized suddenly that other than the rest of AH, this was the closest he’d been to anyone in months, since the last time he saw Ray.

“I’m going to fire,” Ray warned.

Michael stiffened, readying for the recoil. Ray fired, then fired three more shots Michael wasn’t expecting, but were too quick to throw him off. Michael strained his ears to hear any sign of impact physical or otherwise, but once again heard nothing. Ray started to lift up, but stopped, swiveling his gun to the left and craning to the side to see something.

“You’re here for recon, right?” He muttered.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Michael asked.

“Your target an older guy who likes young boys?” He prompted.

“Uh, yeah? How did you-?”

“He’s just taken a young boy into an alley,” Ray interrupted.

“Shit!” Michael hissed, fumbling for his phone, “Gotta call Geoff. What’s he doing?”

“He’s beating the kid,” Ray answered.

Geoff almost immediately answered.

“Take it up with Jack,” he groused.

“No, Geoff, the guy,” Michael explained frantically, “He’s just dragged the kid into an alley. He’s fucking roughing him up.”

“Pretty badly,” Ray added, “Kid’s arm is broken for sure.”

“It’s bad, Geoff,” Michael relayed through the phone, “Should I intervene?”

“Yes, don’t just sit there!” Geoff exclaimed, “Get down there and save the kid!”

“On it!”

Michael did his best to carefully but quickly maneuver out from under Ray and booked it out of the room and down the stairs of the building. Though their floor was mostly empty, the others were not. Michael didn’t have time to worry about stealth at that particular moment though. He basically flew to the fire escape and slid as quickly down the ladders as he could without hurting himself. He spotted the guy and the kid across the street, next to the building he’d been meant to watch. The kid did not look good.

Michael barreled across the street and rammed shoulder first into the guy. He flew back, deeper into the alley and Michael turned to put his body between the kid and the guards rushing around the corner. 

“Don’t fucking shoot!” Michael warned as they got out weapons, “You could hit your fucking paycheck!”

They seemed smart enough to listen as they pulled only melee or nonlethal weapons before coming at him. He went for his own gun and found it not in his waistband. He’d put it down when he was helping Ray. _Shit._ He Sparta kicked the first guy to get within range and blocked a hook the second sent to his face. He countered with an uppercut just under his sternum. The guy gasped and stumbled back, giving three a chance to swing a nightstick at Michael who ducked to avoid and swept his leg out to knock out theirs. As they fell, four and five moved simultaneously. Michael enough time stand back up and guard his face before four fired a taser and five swung a bat. 

He grunted, his body seizing up as the bat landed on his forearm. He grimaced, pressing hard on his heels, trying to stay steady while getting his arm up to knock the wires away. He registered a shot and the trigger released. He launched forward slamming into five and grabbing at the bat with hisunbroken arm. 

He shoved the bat up, into five’s chin and spun, swinging in an arc around him. He slammed the bat into one’s ear, knocking them out. He noted that the kid had gotten up and was trying to back Michael up by shielding his back from the bossman. Michael tossed him the bat and slammed his boot into two’s stomach, again winding them. Their lungs had to fucking hurt. The last guy, lucky number six, had finally reached him if the knife he blocked with his broken arm was any indication.

“Shit my fucking dick off!” He hissed. 

He swung his foot up, destroying their genitals and kneed their face when they bent naturally. A small crack signaled he’d broken their nose. He slammed his fist into their temple, knocking them out. Two had mostly recovered, but didn’t look keen on coming at him again. 

He turned to the kid, who was doing a good job of dodging the guy. Michael spat and sidled up to him, taking the bat back and swinging. The guy dropped and Michael turned back to two, pointing the bat at them. Two put up their hands up in surrender. 

“Stay,” he spat over his shoulder.

He went back to the entrance of the alleyway, looking up to the bathroom window. A mirror flashed Morse code at him.

_ Doing this 1 handed. _

Michael blushed. Was he really? He could be. He swallowed, trying to ignore the stirring in his pants. Focus on the pain in the arm. Focus on literally anything but Ray’s flushed face in his head. His eyes were laser-locked on the window. Fuck, he wished he could see him. Did he get hot from watching Michael fight or was it just his own shots? Fuck, he wanted to jerk off. After a brief moment the mirror flashed again.

_ Fuck yes. Sorry to dip on you. _

Michael scowled. He wanted to make him stay. Wanted to ask why he shot two to help him. He flipped him off instead. _Whatever._ He got out his phone and moved back into the alley. 

“Geoff, I’ve got the fucking kid,” he growled into the phone, “And I’ve got bossman and some fucking peon. Send someone to deal with this fucking shit.”

“Who pissed in your Cheerios?” Geoff grunted.

Michael made his way to the boss and kicked him in the ribs.

“This piece of fucking trash!” Michael snarled, “Just had to damage the fucking kid. My arm’s fucking broken. And some fucking asswipe tased me.”

He realized he’d been dragging the taser along for the ride and suddenly yanked the wires from his chest. He hissed in pain as the barbs ripped out, none too gently.

“Well, V’s on the way,” Geoff grumbled, “Anything else you need, Princess?”

_A flashy Hispanic sniper with an exhibition fetish._ Michael looked up from where he was death glaring the filth at his feet. He suddenly had a bad idea.

“How about a new recruit?”


	6. Chapter 6

It hadn’t taken much to convince Geoff to try to hire Ray. Once the word “sniper” had left Michael’s mouth, he had agreed immediately. He’d been looking for a long distance guy for some time, but it’d taken a back burner to the more urgent matters of running a gang and a city.

He also knew Ray’s pimp, immediately recognizing the name Joel in the context of being a pimp. Michael didn’t like it, but he knew life in Los Santos was shit. Some times you just gotta be what makes you money. And sometimes you just gotta have casual sex. He couldn’t judge anyone for something like that.

But that didn’t mean he was cool with seeing Ray’s ebony hair between another man’s thighs. Geoff sighed when they entered Joel’s office to find him getting blown by Ray. Joel had the decency to blush slightly, but showed no other sign of embarrassment as Fake AH walked forward. 

“Joel, you made an appointment,” Geoff grunted, “And then you’re getting blown by one of your boys. The fuck man?”

Ray stood up, turning and wiping his mouth as he started speaking.

“It wasn’t exactly...” he trailed off as his eyes landed on Michael, “...planned. Uh, hey Ragey.”

He didn’t look embarrassed, but he did seem a bit regretful. Michael couldn’t look at him or Joel. He stared at the floor.

“Purple,” He greeted in a mutter.

“So this is him?” Geoff asked as they moved forward, “This is the sniper?”

He and Jack sat in the chairs across the desk from them. Michael stood behind Jack and Ryan behind Geoff. Ryan was practically vibrating with amusement at Michael’s predicament. He was the only one who knew his... _relationship_ with Ray. He’d taken to calling him “Quick Shot” due to Michael’s lament that Ray finished quickly and left, something that was extremely amusing to him. 

“Yes, he’s the one,” Michael confirmed to the floor.

“Yes, one BrownMan,” Joel added, “As requested.”

“You requested me?” Ray asked, sounding almost hopeful.

Michael glanced up at Ray to see him grinning widely at him from his perch on Joel’s lap. He looked back at the floor. So then he _was_ a hooker. He thought Michael might want to buy a night with him. Michael would definitely like to buy a night with him.

“Yes, we heard you’re the best sniper in Los Santos,” Geoff answered.

“Best in San Andreas,” Ray corrected, sounding annoyed.

“What’s your distance?” Jack prompted.

“Depends on how long it’s been,” Ray joked, “Average is currently over thirteen.”

“Thirteen hundred?” Jack pressed, sounding impressed.

“Yeah, best in San Andreas, my dude,” he reiterated, tone bitter, “Actually, I’m a bit low right now. I’m usually 14ish, but I took a very short shot recently.”

_Damnit, he’s talking about the taser guy._ Michael wondered if it bothered Ray as much as it sounded like it did. Meanwhile, Ryan pulsed gleeful energy at the new ammo Ray had provided him to tease Michael with later. Bastard. He could almost hear the “Michael, did you have a short shot with Quick Shot?” in Ryan’s smugly pleased voice.

“So what’s the job?” Ray asked, “I gotta warn you though, I’m expensive. I’m not some dollar store whore.”

Michael almost visibly flinched at that.

“A heist,” Geoff explained. “We’re going to nab this.”

Geoff turned his phone to Ray, showing him the massive uncut emerald nicknamed the Crowning Jewel.

“That’s...that’s a big take,” he pointed out, sounding pretty shocked.

“It’d be about 10 mil,” Geoff confirmed, “You’d be spending a large portion of the job on the roof and ceiling of the museum it’s being kept in. Then you’d be in a helicopter covering our escape.”

“And how would you plan on paying?” Joel chimed in, “What’s his pay for working for you?”

“We’ll give him half a mil,” Geoff answered, “Half up front, plus whatever your cut is.”

“You intend to pay my commission outside his pay?” Joel clarified.

“Yes, that’s correct,” Geoff confirmed, “Plus, I have something for you to foster our relationship.”

Geoff held his hand out to Ryan who sat a case on his palm. Geoff placed it on the table and slid it towards them. Michael peeked up to watch their reaction to the contents. Joel sat forward, one arm around Ray to keep him in his lap and clicked open the case. Judging by the way his eyebrows hit his hairline, he was impressed. Ray meanwhile stuck his tongue out with a quiet “bleh” and looked away. 

Ray’s eyes moved to Michael and he brightened up. Michael blushed. _He’s probably happy I’m looking at him. Attention whore._ Ray grinned at him and wiggled his eyebrows. Michael rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched upwards. He really didn’t care that Ray was a hooker, he just hated seeing it. Joel’s arm around him was relaxed. He was used to holding Ray in his lap. Michael wanted to get used to that too.

“So BrownMan, what do you think?” Geoff prompted, drawing Ray’s attention.

“Don’t ask me,” he grumbled, “Daddy handles all my contracts.”

“What did I t-“ Joel started.

“Don’t call me daddy in front of customers, it’s weird,” Ray recited before he could finish, “Meh. You’re just making it weird.”

He stuck his tongue out again and Joel rolled his eyes.

“He’ll take the damn job,” He muttered, “Then he can be your pain in the ass for awhile.”

Ray bounced on his lap excitedly.

“When do we start?” He asked, tone full of eagerness. 

Michael smiled softly at the grin on Ray’s face. _Looked happy._ Michael liked him being happy.


	7. Chapter 7

Michael slapped his hand against the security guard’s and pulled back to fist bump him.

“Yo, Vio, hows it hangin’, man?” He greeted, letting his East Coast tint his voice, “How’s Brandy?”

“Yo, Mogar,” Vio called back, “Doin good. She finally popped out the kid!”

He pulled out his phone to show him his lock screen, which was a picture of a baby.

“Vio Jr. in the world finally?” Michael laughed, “He’s way cuter than you! Congrats, man!”

“Thanks, I made him myself,” Vio joked, “How that pretty boy? Eh, Johnny?”

Michael’s stomach clenched. Right, last time he’d seen Vio, he’d been fucking Jon.

“Jon, yeah,” Michael muttered, “You know me, I can’t keep ‘em.”

“This the new one then?” Vio asked, jerking his chin back at Ray behind him.

_Loaded question._

“Nah, he’s runnin’ a job with us,” Michael answered, “BrownMan, say hi to Vio.”

“Hi to Vio,” Ray deadpanned.

“BrownMan?” Vio said, eyebrows going up, “Like the BrownMan?”

“In the flesh,” Ray answered dryly.

Michael frowned. Was Ray famous? Vio looked between Ray and Michael before shrugging.

“Whatever, man,” he muttered, “You need the rafters then?”

“Yup,” Ray confirmed.

“Stick around til after five,” Vio instructed, “I’ll let you up. Hey, uh, Mogar, I don’t mean to judge, but you know he’s one of Joel’s boys right?”

“Yes, we contracted him through Joel,” Michael answered, crossing his arms, “You got a problem with that, Vio? Should I remind you of some of the shit you’ve been paid to do?”

Vio put his hands up in surrender and Michael turned away. They had about an hour until five and Michael needed to scope out the jewel room. Ray trailed behind him, only catching up to walk beside him once they’d entered the room. It took Ray two seconds to begin prying once they started their slow walk around the room.

“Whose Jon?” He asked, casually.

“A whore I used to fuck on a regular basis,” Michael answered, not sure why he bothered to tell the truth.

“Oh shit, Riser?” Ray nearly shouted.

He got some glares from other guests and the security in the room. 

“You know him?” Michael asked, dryly, “What, is there a Whorebook?”

Ray laughed, his face splitting into a grin that sent flutters through Michael.

“There should be,” Ray joked, “But I think others know each other better. I, uh, just know Risemonger because he’s Burn’s favorite. We chat when Joel and Burn hang.”

“Small world,” Michael muttered bitterly.

“I guess I know your type now,” Ray teased.

Michael gave him a flat look.

“Don’t make me kill you, Purple,” he grunted.

“Nah, you like me too much,” Ray dismissed, “Besides, you need me for the job.”

“I can always kill you later,” Michael grumbled.

“Nah, you like my mouth too much,” Ray laughed, knocking their shoulders together.

A Karen ahead of them turned around, looking scandalized. Michael glared her down until she shrank away and toddled off. 

“Speaking of,” Ray spoke up, “Thanks for defending me back there with your friend.”

Michael raised an eyebrow at him.

“I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to verbally assault him,” Ray admitted, “Didn’t want to get you in trouble.”

“You’re always allowed to defend yourself when you’re with me,” Michael scoffed, “I’ll always back you up. So will the rest of the crew. We take care of each other.”

Ray was quiet for the next few minutes until they stopped in front of the jewel in question. 

“So this is it?” He mumbled, “Why this though?”

“Because we can,” Michael answered curtly.

They turned to look at each other and grinned. 

~

Michael watched Ray run and jump around the rafters like it wasn’t hundreds of feet in the air. He was apparently some fucking parkour master or some shit. Michael supposed that was necessary if you were going to snipe from such dangerous heights. His phone buzzed and Michael sighed. What was everyone’s deal with not letting him watch Ray? He saw Ryan’s name and considered smashing his phone through his skull. _Here we go..._

_Hey, get your quick shot in yet?_

Fuck off, Ry.

_So that’s a no._

I could kill you. 

_I could kill you too, but you’re far too entertaining. Seriously though, when are you getting done?_

He’s jumping around the rafters picking his nesting spot.

_So is that like hours or minutes?_

How the fuck should I know?

_I thought you watched him shoot all the time? In more ways than one._

Yeah, shoot, not setup. He took three days to setup one shot, dude. He’s professional.

_Whatever, just get pizza on your way home._

Fuck you, I paid last time.

_Then I’ll blow you when you get here. Bet I’m better than Quick Shot._

Michael shuddered, looking back up at Ray who was settled, looking through a scope.

Not a fucking chance.

_Oh, Geoff says bring him._

For dinner?

_ Yeah, not for the blowjob. But I’m sure if we pool our cash, one of us could get one. If you blow me, I’ll let you have it. _

Asshole.

Michael blushed, shoving his phone in his pocket and ignoring the buzz of Ryan’s next message. Since they’d discovered Ray’s other profession, Ryan had been making nonstop comments about Michael needing money to see him. _Fucking dickhole._

A few minutes later when his face was less embarrassed, Ray rejoined him and threw him a thumbs up. They left the museum and Michael headed for their usual pizza place.

“What kind of pizza you like?” He asked as he pulled into the drive-thru.

“Uhh, whatever’s fine,” Ray answered, “Do you always get pizza for recon?”

“No, the crew want pizza,” Michael explained, “Geoff said to bring you.”

Ray shifted in his seat and Michael glanced at him. He looked nervous.

“Is that okay with you?” Michael asked, “I can drop you off somewhere else.”

Ray shrugged. Michael frowned. He looked like he was shrinking, getting more slumped down. _Deflating._ Michael ordered the pizza before speaking again.

“Really, man,” He assured Ray, “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. The crew just wants to get to know you. But they’re a bunch of fucking assholes, so don’t worry about it.”

“Why?” Ray muttered, “Why do they wanna know me?”

Michael bit his cheek nervously. He paid for the pizza and put it in the back seat as he considered. He had to be careful. Ray was in contract with Joel, so he couldn’t imply they wanted to break that contract until they were sure.

“Well, we want to know if you fit well with us,” He spoke carefully, “You know, in case we wanna work together again.”

“Not because you’re fucking me?” Ray pressed, lolling his head to look at him.

“No, um, only Vagabond knows,” Michael answered, nervously.

“Why?”

Michael’s hands flexed anxiously on the wheel.

“Geoff...is very strict on professionalism,” He admitted, “He’ll fucking stab me if he knows I’ve been fucking on jobs.”

“So I’m your dirty little secret?” Ray teased.

Michael went red again.

“Uh, s-sure, I guess,” he muttered.

“I’m gonna blow you.”

Michael had about half a second to try to process that before Ray was leaning over the center console. Michael’s waning boner came back in full force, but shoved Ray’s hands away.

“N-not while I’m dr-driving!” He hissed. 

Ray looked up at him, frowning.

“What, why? You can do both,” he assured him.

“I can’t...” 

Michael halted, realizing how embarrassing the sentence was.

“Can’t what?” Ray pressed.

“C-can’t...watch,” Michael muttered.

He refused to look away from the road, his face burning. Ray sat back in his seat and Michael’s heart pounded in his chest. Was that good or bad? 

“Alright, but later I’m going to suck your soul out of your body through your dick.”

Michael’s hips spasmed. _It was good. It was really good._


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ASL is bolded for your convenience.

Ray picked the seat the furthest from everyone else, Michael noted. It was actually Ryan’s chair, unofficially, but Ryan was in a different room when they’d gotten there. Now he was silently stewing in his second favorite chair, throwing eye daggers at Ray. Geoff and Jack were keeping up the conversation, asking Ray loads of questions on where he was from (New Liberty), what things he liked to do (shoot, fuck, and play games), and very unsubtle questions about how he liked working with Joel.

He’d deflated further once they’d arrived, sinking into the chair cushion. Michael got the feeling that being death-glared by the Vagabond while being interrogated wasn’t too fun for him. He didn’t want to speak up though, wanting to leave it up to Ray if he answered the questions, but at least he could try to get Ryan to fuck off via ASL.

**You’re making him uncomfortable,** he pointed out.

**So? Quick Shot stole my spot.**

Michael rolled his eyes.

**What are you, a child? Grow up.**

Ryan’s cold laser eyes turned their sights on Michael. Michael could see the shift in targets and nearly audibly sighed with relief. _Good, focus on me._

**Are you back-talking me?**

**I’m telling you to stop being rude.**

**Do you want a knife to the throat?**

**Better than listening to you.**

**You’d rather listen to him?**

Ryan was smirking behind the mask as he jerked his chin at Ray.

**Yes, at least he’s not a jerk.**

**You have to pay extra for that?**

Michael’s face twisted into an angry, embarrassed grimace.

**What’s wrong, hooker got your tongue?**

Michael’s fists clenched and unclenched several times before he responded.

** You suck. **

** Not as much as he does I bet. **

“Shut the fuck up!” Michael snapped, springing to his feet, “You think you get to judge, Vagabond? Fuck you! Say some shit again, I dare you!”

“Yo, Rage, its fine,” Ray spoke up, “He’s technically right. I definitely suck more dick than him.”

The room went silent as they turned to look at him in surprise.

“But that’s easy, when you never get laid,” Ray added, “I may be a quick shot, but you’re a no shot.”

He pointed a finger gun at Ryan and “fired” it with a tiny pow. There was another brief pause of quiet before three members of Fake AH burst into laughter. Ryan grunted and crossed his arms, his way of saying “whatever”. Ray seemed to brighten up a bit at their laughing at his joke, pulling up from his sinking into the chair.

~

“You guys are pretty cool,” Ray suddenly said.

Michael raised an eyebrow at him. They’d been silent in the ten minute car ride. They were almost to Ray’s destination before he’d said anything.

“Thanks, I guess?” Michael laughed, “You’re not so bad yourself. The crew really likes you.”

“Except for Vagabond,” Ray muttered bitterly.

“Yeah, he’s a dickbag,” Michael agreed, “But he shows his affection by being a jerk.”

“He’s a jerk to you a lot then?” Ray asked, staring out his window.

“I guess?” Michael answered, “We’re best friends. We’ve always been fucking assholes to each other.”

“Are you an idiot?” Ray muttered, head lolling back to look at him.

“Pretty much,” Michael laughed.

They pulled into the parking lot of the building Ray had directed him to. 

“See ya, Ragey,” Ray called as he got out, “Stay safe.”

“No way!” Michael countered, “That’s too easy.”

Ray flashed him a tiny smile before he closed the car door and entered the apartment building. Michael had the strong urge to call him back and take him to his place. _Whatever._


	9. Chapter 9

“Okay, everyone ready?” Geoff asked over the coms.

He got an affirmative noise back from everyone.

“Alright, Mogar, send us in,” he instructed.

“3!”

Michael put his thumb over the switch.

“2!”

He pressed the button.

“1!”

He released the button and a distant explosion was heard. Ryan, Ray, and Geoff each yanked out a glass pane on the glass dome of the museum as the explosion rocked the building. The alarm screamed to life and Ryan, Ray, and Michael quickly slipped through the empty window frames. As they ran off Geoff retracted the ropes. 

“Five minutes,” he grunted, “Get a move on.”

They wove through the museum, dodging confused guards until they got to a junction. Ryan split one way, towards security, while Ray and Michael made for the jewel room. Ray split off before they reached it to get into the rafters.

“Three minutes,” Geoff reminded.

Michael rolled his eyes as he got to the jewel room. He and Ray signaled they were in position and waited for Ryan. The alarm shut off and Michael grunted in relief. Damn he was going to have a nasty migraine. 

“Ready, in 3,” Geoff muttered, “2...1!”

The power shut down and Michael rolled under the shutters as they started to descend.

“I’m in,” he muttered, hurrying over to the appropriate case.

He heard the sound of shooting on the other side of the shutters as he opened up the case. He carefully placed the glass on the ground and retrieved the fake. He took a deep breath as he put his hand on the real one and hovered the fake one over it.

“Here goes some fucking Indiana Jones shit,” he mumbled. 

“Mogar Jones and the Big Fuck Emerald,” Ray suggested.

Michael stifled laughter and switched the gems. He hesitated a moment, glancing around.

“Okay, I think we’re good,” he said, sighing with relief.

He replaced the glass, but as soon as he stepped away from the case, he heard a click below his feet. He looked down with wide eyes. _Shit!_ A new alarm began shrieking as the reinforced steel slammed down around the shutters. 

“So...there was a pressure plate in the floor,” Michael explained hesitantly, “For some fucking reason.”

“Damnit, Mi-Mogar!” Geoff hissed, quickly correcting himself, “I thought you did fucking recon!”

“I did!” Michael snapped, “I didn’t see this fucking shit, okay?!”

“Because you were too distracted,” Ryan sneered.

Michael’s face went red.

“N-no! I swear it wasn’t fucking here!” Michael protested, “Don’t fucking start that shit now, Vagabond!”

“What the hell is he talking about?!” Geoff demanded.

“N-nothing! He’s just being a fucking dick!” Michael grumbled.

“You sure about that?” Ryan asked, tone cold and dark, “Maybe we should ask Quick Shot?”

“Sh-shut the hell up!” Michael hissed, “I’m going to fucking strangle you!”

“Hey, BrownMan,” Ryan called, “Did Mogar enjoy your date to the museum or did you flake on him again?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Geoff grumbled, “The hell is he talking about??”

“I...damnit,” Michael muttered, “I’ve been...fucking BrownMan. But I didn’t fuck him on this job!”

“On _this_ job?!” Geoff shouted, “You fucking moron!”

Michael squeezed his eyes closed, face burning. 

“I didn’t mean to!” He protested, “It just happened!”

“You-!” Geoff growled, practically choking on his rage, “Is that why you wanted to recruit him?!”

“N-no!” Michael insisted, “...not completely.”

“Wait, really?” Ray spoke up, “You really just wanted to fuck me?”

“No!” Michael exclaimed, “I-I mean... it was a factor.”

“I’m going to skin you alive,” Geoff growled, “As soon as we get the fuck out of here.”

Michael was not looking forward to it.

~

Michael spat blood over the balcony and took a drag off his cigarette. Truly one of the worst nights of his life. Geoff had clocked him pretty good and shouted at him for half an hour while everyone else just hung out in the living room waiting. No doubt they heard everything that was said though, considering the office door was open. 

Then coming into the living room to see the other three was embarrassing as hell. Ryan looked fucking pleased with himself and Jack looked properly disappointed in him. Ray though, he couldn’t look at Ray. He just walked past them out to the balcony. 

He sat on the wall looking out over Los Santos with an oppressive feeling of self-loathing. It was Ryan who eventually joined him, but Michael wished he’d fuck off. Instead he hopped up onto the wall with him.

“Why the hell did you do that?” Michael demanded.

He looked at Ryan who actually looked apologetic.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

He rubbed a hand over his face and sighed.

“What the fuck is your deal, man?” Michael pressed, “BrownMan hasn’t done shit to you and you’re being a real asshole.”

“I...I was...I am...” Ryan mumbled.

He grunted annoyance and turned to Michael, suddenly seizing his face and kissing him. Michael shoved him away with a scowl. 

“The fuck are you doing?!” He growled.

Ryan scowled back, grabbing Michael’s shirt.

“I love you!” He shouted, anger heavy in his words, “I loved you for so long and then this fucking random kid shows up and you love him! You don’t even fucking know him! You’re fucking head over heels for some asshole you don’t know shit about!”

Michael stared at him, stunned into silence. Ryan’s hand loosened until it was laying flat on Michael’s chest. His face softened and he leaned forward.

“Is it the sex?” He asked, tone low, “I can give you that. Please, I can do whatever he can. I promise I can be as good as him.”

Michael was in a state of complete shock as Ryan’s hand trailed down his torso to his belt. He shoved Ryan’s hand away as his brain started to catch up.

“R-Ryan!” He exclaimed, “Wh-what are you doing?!”

He shuddered as Ryan kissed his neck.

“Whatever you want,” he whispered in Michael’s ear, “Just tell me what you want. Please.”

Michael’s brain finally snapped into place and his whole body blushed. He pushed Ryan away, scooting backwards.

“N-not this!” He sputtered, “N-not w-with you!”

He winced at the way that came out and started to apologize, but Ryan’s eyes were already filled with tears. He was gone before Michael could try to apologize or explain or say something less rude. He wasn’t even sure what he could say that would make the situation easier. He lit another cigarette for lack of anything else to do. _Great._ He lost Ray and Ryan the same night. 


	10. Chapter 10

Michael paced back and forth in front of Ryan’s door. What do you say in this situation? How do you tell you best friend you still love them just not like that? He paused, putting his hand on Ryan’s door. _I don’t want to lose you, Ry. Please understand._

His despair was interrupted by a commotion at the front door. He drew his gun and crept towards the door as Jack popped out from Geoff’s office similarly armed. They moved together down the hall, naturally falling into step next to each other. 

“Told you you’d feel better,” Ray’s voice called from the front door.

Michael and Jack glanced at each other as they lowered their weapons. They rounded the corner to see Ryan signing to Ray who rolled his eyes.

“Well, no one said you had to be,” he grunted, as he yanked at his shoelaces, “Just feeling better one night is fine, you know.”

**I have a feeling you’re going to cause me problems.**

“Hey, you had fun,” Ray protested as he wobbled trying to get his shoe off, “If your face is anything to go off.”

**What’s wrong with my-**

Ryan halted mid-sign as he noticed Jack and Michael. Michael covered his mouth, trying to stifle laughter and Jack turned around shouting for Geoff. Ryan squinted at them and then back at Ray who was giving him a blank face. Geoff came around the corner looking annoyed and opened his mouth to tear them all a new one. He halted when he saw Ryan, his eyebrows shooting up. Ryan scowled at all of them starting to laugh.

**What is happening?**

Michael lifted his phone to take a picture and then turned it around for him to see. Ryan’s eyes went comically wide and he blushed horrifically. He shot down the hall to the bathroom, presumably to wash his face. Ray grinned at Michael who shook his head as he laughed.

“Introduce him to one of your friends?” Michael joked.

“A hooker with blue lipstick?” Ray muttered incredulously, “Fuck no. That was a stripper that left that all over him.”

“That is incredible,” Geoff spoke up, “You got him to go to a strip club?!”

“I mean, it took a bit of convincing,” Ray assured him, shrugging, “But I showed him an ad for this one and he suddenly agreed.”

He opened his phone and flicked around for a moment before turning it towards the others. They all leaned in curiously to look at the winking stripper. He had blue lipstick, the shade that’d just been all over Ryan’s face. Tan, sandy hair, pretty smile. He was cute, but the three couldn’t place anything special about him. 

“This is the first one?” Geoff muttered, “He’s okay, I guess.”

“Hairy,” Michael muttered with a frown.

“You think he has a blue lipstick fetish?” Jack snorted.

“Surely he’s seen blue lipstick before,” Geoff scoffed.

“It is Ry we’re talking about,” Michael pointed out.

Ray turned the phone back around and held it up next to Michael.

“Nope, looks nothing like you,” He dismissed, “Not sure if you could look more different if you fucking tried.”

“Maybe that’s the point?” Jack suggested, shrugging his shoulders, “Who knows? But seriously, where does he work, what’s his name, and how much did his dance cost? We’re about to lock this kid down.”

“That’s creepy, man,” Ray pointed out, “But he works over at Burn’s and his stage name is Free Bird.”

“Burn’s?” Geoff spoke up, “Shit, I gotta call him.”

He pulled out his phone, but froze as a blade touched his throat.

“Leave him alone,” Ryan growled, “Don’t involve the whore in your bullshit.”

“Stripper,” Ray corrected.

Ryan’s eyes locked onto him.

“He offered to take me into the back rooms,” Ryan grunted, _“Whore._ Regardless, leave him alone.”

“Ryan, the irony is lost on you,” Michael muttered. 

Ryan glanced at him and blushed, retracting the knife.

“I’m...sorry,” he mumbled, “About all that.”

Michael gave him a fond smile and then opened his arms for a hug.

“Come on, bring it in,” he insisted, “You’re my best friend, man. I understand.”

Ryan gave him a quick hug and immediately backed off.

“I’m...actually glad you didn’t want to,” He grumbled, “I’m not a bottom. I would’ve hated it.”

Michael snorted out laughter and slugged him. 

“Dork.”

“Douche.”

“Alright everyone, show’s over,” Jack spoke up, “You all have work to do. Ray, we need to talk to you.”

Geoff, Jack, and Ray headed for Geoff’s office.

“I hope this isn’t a spit-roast kinda talk,” Ray grunted, “I’m really tired.”

Michael waited until the door closed before he went into interrogation mode.

“Alright, Ry,” he started, “Cough it up, what did you like about the stripper?”

Ryan blushed, looking away. 

“His...eyes...” he mumbled, “They’re very pretty.”

Michael’s eyebrows went up. 

“Guess that’s as good a reason as any,” He mused, “So how was he?”

Ryan shifted, rubbing the back of his neck.

“He, um, he’s warm,” he answered, “Like sunshine. Charismatic, bubbly, friendly. I don’t know.”

“Aw! You got a crush!” Michael teased, “Who’d have known? Vagabond with a cute little crush.”

“I will end your bloodline,” Ryan growled, face burning.

“Too late, I’m gay!” Michael exclaimed as he dodged a wild swing.

Ryan had him in a headlock, threatening to slice off his nuts when the other three returned. They looked up at them curiously, pausing their actions. 

“Sup?” Michael prompted, “Someone die? You guys look pleased.”

“Nope!” Geoff denied cheerfully, “Just happy to welcome Fake AH’s newest crew member, one Ray Narvaez Jr.”

He gestured towards Ray who gave a mock half salute.

“Oh! Congrats, man!” Michael cheered.

“Good to meet you, _Ray,”_ Ryan greeted.

Ray snorted at that.

“Good to meet you, _Ryan,”_ he laughed.

Ryan laughed too and the others just looked between them, baffled.

“Shit, I’m being replaced as Ry’s best friend!” Michael lamented.

Ryan retightened his chokehold.

“By the way, you’re in trouble,” he grunted.

“Fucking now what did I do?!” Michael demanded.

“You objectified my new best friend,” Ryan answered, sounding completely serious, “I’m going to slice your cock off too.”

“Ry, buddy, lets talk about this,” Michael choked, “Ray was totally into it, right, Ray? Please save my genitals.”

“I do like those,” he mused, “Maybe just go for one ball.”

“Whatever you say, boss,” Ryan laughed.

“I cannot believe I’m being ganged up on like this,” Michael groaned miserably, “Can we skip to the makeup sex already?”

Ray burst into laughter at that one, face bright with mirth. Michael’s guts felt warm and all that romantic junk.

“I think it’s funny you think I give a shit,” Ray laughed, “I’m actually pretty pleased with myself. You tried to recruit me into your fucking gang because you wanted a piece of this hot, Puerto Rican ass.”

Michael blushed horribly.

“Never mind, just kill me Ry,” he grumbled, “I’m too embarrassed to live on.”

“Well, in that case,” Ryan answered, letting him go, “Then your punishment is living with your shame.”

“Nooooo!” Michael wailed dramatically.

Fake AH couldn’t hold back any longer, erupting into laughter. _Hey, it’s not perfect, but it’s home_ , Michael thought as they continued to joke between themselves. 


End file.
